


Training Jeremy (and Friends)

by rectificatory



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Food Kink, Homophobic Language, M/M, Mind Control, Oblivious, Oral Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Racist Language, Spanking, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rectificatory/pseuds/rectificatory
Summary: There is a new meet-up app being used by men and boys, it's just that some of those boys (and the men) aren't actually aware that they are using it...[Warning: Homophobic and Racist Language appear in Chapter 8]
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

“Uncle Pete! Uncle Pete!” called Jeremy as he dashed away from the man, and towards the large white and red plastic box sat in the middle of the kid’s play area. “What now?” Peter muttered under his breath. It wasn’t as though he disliked taking his 7-year-old nephew to the arcade, but he had forgotten how tiring chasing after a sugar-fueled young boy could be. The current object of Jeremy’s desire was — to put it politely — a ‘train simulator’, although it was little more that a glorified television in a tacky plastic shell with a hard seat and array of colourful — but non-functioning — buttons and dials.

“It’s only 20 credits, can I have a go please?” the boy begged, “20 credits for 10 minutes peace? Best deal I ever heard of.” Pete told his young charge. Sticking his tongue out playfully as he dived inside, Jeremy made himself as comfortable as he could in the booth’s interior. After closing the door and inserting the requisite credits, Pete withdrew to a strategically placed bench to have — in his opinion — a very well-deserved rest.

The light and sound from outside ended abruptly as the door locked closed, followed by a rapid dimming of all the lighting — including the previously looping video that had enticed Jeremy into the machine — except for a glowing red ‘START’ button. Jeremy’s had hovered over the button for a few moments as he admired that deep crimson colour his hand turned when it got close to it, and the pulsating patterns caused by wiggling his fingers in front of it. Quickly though, the eagerness of the boy to drive the train won out over the light show he was creating for himself.

Licking his lips in anticipation, Jeremy brought his whole hand down onto the button before him. The sudden darkness and complete silence surprised the boy, causing him to inhale a quick breath. Patiently he waited for the screen before him to come alive so that he could drive the train, but nothing was happening. As it does with young and under-stimulated minds, boredom was quickly setting in for Jeremy, he let out a sigh — the breath that he hadn’t been aware he was holding in anticipation — and reached out to try to touch the red button — or any button — again in hopes of something happening.

His hand moved through the pitch darkness to where he thought the button had been, and just before his fingers made contact with it a bright white flash emanated from the screen directly in front of him. Jumping back in surprise, Jeremy looked straight ahead, stunned by the sudden change in lighting. Slowly the pure white void burned into his eyes gave way to the utter darkness once more, and Jeremy — fearing that he had somehow broken the machine — turned to his left to try to find the door to this now featureless box he was trapped in. He had barely turned in his seat before another flash pulled his attention back to the screen. Again and again he tried to interact with the buttons he knew were there, or try to leave by the exit that he wasn’t entirely sure was there, but his gaze was pulled to the fore again by the white flashes.

Time passed, then something different happened after the last flash, he was certain of it. After a few moments of thought — which was quite difficult he realized, due to the disorienting effects of the flashes — he concluded that there were 2 flashes that time instead of 1. No, the light just flashed 3 times, didn’t it? Wait, now it was 4. Yes, he was sure this last time it had been 4. He needed to concentrate and count the flashes, so he sat still, waiting for the next flashes…

5, 6, 7, flashes! There were more each time, and the time between them was getting shorter too. The boundary between one set of lights and the next started to blur together until eventually it was just a constant flicker holding Jeremy’s attention. He could do nothing else but stare at the screen, he didn’t want to do anything but stare at the light and the shapes embedded in it. Jeremy did not know it, but it was the perfect trap, one that it’s prey willingly and eagerly had walked into and would placidly wait in until the hunters chose to release them. The light stimulated parts of the boy’s brain that would not usually have been so active for many years to come, but these effects were powerful and inescapable, evidenced by the — unnoticeable to the outside observer — 2-inch erection in Jeremy’s pants, and the wonderful tingles — with a promise of more and better feelings to come — that radiated from his crotch.

The relaxation and contentment that Jeremy had been feeling for the last eight-or-so minutes were dissipating, were gradually replaced by the excitement and hyperactivity he had upon entering the booth, joined now by that still present tingling. Once the flashes had subsided, the screen and buttons slowly started to illuminate once more as Jeremy was roused from his stupor. “Wow, that was awesome!” he shouted, dancing around his uncle, “It was like I was really driving a train!”. Pete couldn’t help but smile at his nephew’s exaggerated descriptions of — what he assumed was — the limit scope of interactivity the ride provided.

Pete watched as Jeremy unconsciously slipped his hand down the front of his pants started to rub his penis, “Uncle Pete, I think I need to pee.” the boy quietly announced. “Let’s go then.” the man told him, walking in the directions of the toilets. Jeremy moved closer to him, placing his hand on Pete’s to stop him — the same hand that moments before and been rubbing the still hidden erection, and causing a slight shiver to run down his uncle’s spine — told the man, “It’s OK, I can go by myself.”

Jeremy waved as he disappeared into the blue-tiled bathroom, and made a bee-line towards a stall. Once inside he dropped his pants and sat on the cold dark seat, noticing for the first time that his penis looked unusual. Giving it a couple of tugs he giggled at the feelings that the action elicited, and made a mental to try it some more when he was in bed tonight. It was a bit weird, now that he was sat on the toilet he no longer needed to go, but didn’t feel any in a great rush to leave to continue investigating the games at the arcade. Lazily he fished his phone out of his pocket and decided to install a fun new game he had heard about, one that seemed to be a bright and colourful matching game. It downloaded quickly, and he entered his login details — he was usually awful at remembering that sort of stuff, but he knew he would always remember these — and was presented with a request to add a profile picture. Standing up and lifting his shirt to his chin, he angled the camera high in the air to capture his face and stubby but prominent cock. Examining the resulting photo, he was pleased that he was showing off his body to everyone else playing the game, and sitting down gave his new favourite toy a few well-earned pulls.

Pete heard the door to the toilets slam shut, and watched Jeremy walk towards him wiping his still wet hands down the front of his shirt. Smiling as he noticed the shirt raising slightly to show off a little of his nephew’s tummy, he was distracted by ping from his phone, and retrieving it he noticed a new bright and colourful notification waiting for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Pete stared transfixed at his phone for a moment, “Whoa.” he said as he looked at the profile that had appeared. Glancing over at his nephew discreetly, he licked his lips and wondered if he should act upon the opportunity that had just presented itself. “Uncle Pete?” the young voice broke the man’s concentration momentarily, “Oh, yeah Jeremy?” — the boy looked a little troubled — “Are you OK? You look a bit strange.” Pete assumed the shock of seeing the boy in the picture was showing on his face. “I’m fine, I just need to reply to this message, OK?”

Jeremy waited patiently — or as patiently as a 7-year-old boy can — for his uncle to finish with his phone. The man typed quickly, he had agreed to the rendezvous immediately, but there needed to be a few extra instructions added to smooth out a little complication. The wait for the response seemed to stretch on, causing Pete to start tapping his foot — just like Jeremy was currently doing — to burn off the nervous energy he was feeling. The ping of the notification seemed louder than usual to Pete, as if it was intentionally drawing attention to him, calling him out for the actions he just committed to. A moment later a second ping was heard, this time from Jeremy’s phone. When the boy checked the message, his only response was a slightly surprised “Oh.”

“Hey Jeremy, they’ve got an old DDR machine in the back here, do you want to go and try it?” Pete asked hopefully — a suggestion from the app, an ideal isolated place — “Sure!” came his nephew’s excited response. Walking to the game in silence — an unusual state of being for Jeremy — Pete notice that the boy slipped his hand back into his pants again, and appeared to be giving his immature penis a little squeeze. Trying to ignore this public display, Pete quickened their pace towards the quieter corner of the arcade.

Many miles away, wondrous things had been happening, great banks of silver-grey servers with a dazzling array of brightly glowing LEDs had been beavering away since Jeremy had logged into the app. There work was redoubled as Pete accepted the invitation sent to him and had laid out the necessary instructions for the forth coming encounter. Unknowable algorithms worked at connecting points in the data, one of those connections being the familial relationship between a certain man and boy. Conclusions had been drawn, and a plan of action created, the system had sent the 5 necessary notifications to the 3 participants, and received of confirmation of their deliveries.

“Hey! Pete!” the boy already standing at the DDR machine yelled, waving his arms in the air madly. This greeting had an effect that Pete had not been expecting. “Markus!” yelled Jeremy with undisguised glee as he ran over to high-five his friend. Catching up, a confused Pete asked “You boys know each other?”, both turning to face him Jeremy answered “Yeah, we go to the same school.” Now standing next to his nephew, Pete could fully appreciate the contrast between the boys he could not have fully experienced from just the picture of the newcomer posing fully naked and sucking suggestively on one of his fingers.

Whereas Jeremy was blonde, blue-eyed and a little pudgy around the middle, Markus was the opposite. Dark-skinned and haired, slim with traces of muscle appearing and a few inches taller — naturally, given he was 2 years older — than his nephew. Looking upon them, ebony and ivory, he regretted that he could not have both.

“You want to go first?” Markus asked his younger friend. For an answer, Jeremy leapt up onto the platform and looked expectantly at his uncle to provide the machine with it’s needed credits. Quickly settling into an easy rhythm Jeremy danced, distracted from his uncle and friend as the colourful graphics and addictive beat of the music consumed his attention.

“So what do we, er, do now? This is my first time doing this, and…” Pete was more nervous than he thought possible, here he was in the company of a cute young boy who was — supposedly — willing to do just about anything with him, mere feet away from his nephew who could interrupt them at any moment — and probably the most inopportune moment, if Pete knew his nephew. What would Jeremy say or do if he caught his uncle doing ‘stuff’ to his school friend, would Jeremy even know what Pete was doing. “Me too, I’ve never been able to get away to do it before, this is so cool.” the boy beside Pete gushed, “Here, look!”. The man looked over to see that Markus had pulled his pants away from his body and was showing off his — frankly quite delicious looking — 2 1/2 inch penis. The dark skin ending in an almost luminous pink tip pulsed slightly with each beat of the boy’s heart.

“Can I, maybe kiss you?” Pete asked the boy as the elasticated band of his trousers snapped back around his waist. “Sure.” the boy agreed, standing on his tip-toes and pursing his lips. Pete laughed at the boy’s attempts to reach him, and took pity on the boy. Kneeling now, Pete moved in to give the boy a peck on the lips, but was surprised when a pair of thin arms wrapped around his neck and held him in place. Something warm and squishy pressed against Pete’s lips, and parting them, his mouth was invaded by the kid’s tongue. Minutes passed as their tongues wrestled in each other’s mouths.

Finally parting, both man and boy let out contented sighs. “That was nice.” both said at the same time. “Jinx!” yelled Markus, pointing at Pete, “Now you can’t talk until…”, the boy tried to decide upon a suitable forfeit, “you suck my peen!”. The yell had brought Jeremy’s attention back to his uncle and friend. Tearing himself away from the flashing lights that until moments ago he had been passively staring at, he saw his uncle knelt before his friend. “Are you two OK, uncle Pete?” he asked concerned.

Pete opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it, nodding ‘Yes’. “Can I have another go?” he asked, again only receiving a nod for an answer. “Are you sure you are OK?” the boy asked, starting to get a little worried. “He’s jinxed!” Markus informed his friend with a giggle. A mischievous grin appeared on Jeremy’s face, “Say nothing if I can have the biggest ice-cream in the store on the way home.”. With a glare from his uncle, and a genuine “Thank you.” in response for receiving a pile of credits to continue playing, Jeremy was quickly absorbed by the game once more.

Turning his own attention back to Markus, Pete was pleasantly surprised to see that the boy had dropped his pants to his ankles, and was proudly displaying his still hard cock. “Yes.” the delighted boy hissed as the man’s tongue lovingly licked the length of the boy’s cock, only to be quickly replaced by moans of appreciation as it slid past the man’s lips. Grabbing the man’s head to steady himself, Markus started to pump his hips, gasping occasionally as the man’s tongue took a swipe at the sensitive head as it moved in and out.

Pete had not expected the boy to be so active in their — not exactly love-making, but he was definable loving it — activity, he had always pictured his boy being more laid back, expecting the man to do the work. But the boy was clearly enjoying what he was doing, and the little guilt that Pete had been feeling evaporated as he realized Markus wanted this as much as he did. A chant of “Oh, oh, oh!” proceeded a final thrust into Pete’s mouth as the boy’s cock tried to deliver something that was not present yet. Knowing that their coupling was coming to an end, Pete ran his tongue over the boy’s still hard cock, trying to experience as much of the texture and flavour that he could.

“Aie!” Markus cried as he jumped back, the tingles in his cock becoming too intense to bear. Breathing hard, both man and boy looked at each other with satisfied grins on their faces. “Uncle Pete?” came a dreamy voice from beside them. Looking around, Pete saw a bleary-eyed Jeremy moving away from the now more subdued game. Out of the corner of his eye, Pete saw Markus pulling up is pants — with a bit of difficulty, his legs having turned to jelly moments before — to make himself presentable when Jeremy re-joined their company.

“I have to go now.” Markus told the disappointed pair as he glanced at his phone, “We should get together again, I had fun.” he said as he walked away, giving Pete a wink and an air-kiss. “What was that about?” asked Jeremy, “Dunno…” replied Pete, reddening slightly. A long moment passed as the two of them watched Markus disappear into the distance, “So…” asked Jeremy, “Can we get ice-cream?”


	3. Chapter 3

Pete had not planned on a trip to the ice-cream store, but he was in such a good mood after his encounter with Markus, that he made no mention of the — quite significant — detour he and Jeremy had to make. When they arrived there were no other vehicles parked there, a fact that worried Jeremy greatly, as he assumed they were closed. But as luck would have it, they were in for a treat.

Jeremy had been checking his phone during the journey, and one of the notifications that had popped up had caught his eye. It had asked him if he was going to visit ‘Joe’s Ice Cream Parlour’ today, as he would be passing it soon. “We’re going to ‘Joe’s’ aren’t we?” he had asked his chauffeur, to which he got a positive response. Swiping right, he felt the now familiar tingle in his penis flare, and reaching into his pants, found it once again quite hard. “I’m really getting excited to have some ice-cream.” he thought to himself, “Today I think I’ll have the ‘Chocolate and Raspberry with Joe’s Special Sauce’.”, and even though he had never had it before, he knew he’d love it.

“Ah! Hello!” greeted the older man behind the counter. Jeremy dashed up to the counter and blurted out his order followed by a more sedate Pete who ordered a much less exclusive ‘Vanilla with Fudge Sauce’. Beaming at the young boy, and congratulating him on ordering one of the finest dishes on offer, the man busied himself with preparing the ice-cream while Pete and Jeremy slipped into a booth. While they waited Jeremy chattered away about all the fun games he had played on — a commentary the Pete did not need, as he had been present throughout — while Pete reminisced privately about his too short time with the handsome Markus, idly hoping he’d get to meet the boy again for some more fun.

A slightly flushed looking Joe arrived at the booth and gave Jeremy and his uncle their desserts. A dark square bowl filled with several large cream-colored rolls of ice-cream drizzled with a rich golden sauce was placed in front of Pete, and an elongated glass bowl with two conjoined circles at one end — each containing a plump raspberry — was placed in front of Jeremy. The chocolate ice-cream looked like it had been meticulously piped into elegant swirls with the opposite end from the actual raspberries being a reddish-pink sorbet. Along the chocolate there had been squirted a creamy, opalescent white sauce that looked to have been added with quite some vigour.

Pete blushed, surely Joe would not have knowingly presented a 7-year-old boy with a dish that looked like a cock. No, it was obviously his own over-active imagination, the colour and shape reminding him so vividly of Markus’ delicious morsel. Clearing his throat, he thanked the man and started to eat, encouraging Jeremy to do the same. But Jeremy was still studying the contents of his plate, he was curious about what the sauce was, the ‘special’ sauce of the dishes name. Dipping his little finger into it, he brought a small amount of it to his mouth and tasted it. It was a little bit weird, but not bad, and soon most of it had been mixed into the chocolate as he devoured the treat.

A ping drew Jeremy’s attention away from his ice-cream, looking at the notification he smiled as the tingling that he had been feeling constantly while in the parlour intensified. “Uncle Pete, I need to pee again.” he told the man, “OK, but don’t be long, your ice-cream will melt.” As the boy slipped out of the booth, Pete closed his eyes and savoured the last mouthful of his ice-cream, and relaxing into the cushioned seat, and started to relive his short adventure with the other boy once more.

Joe watched Jeremy as he made his way, not to the bathroom, but to the unmarked door next to it. The boy, like so many other before him, strode confidently into the almost barren room, stripped, sat in the reclining chair, pulling his legs up to his chest. Waiting a moment, so as not to arouse any suspicions in the boy’s guardian, Joe walked the short distance to join Jeremy, making sure to lock the door behind himself.

“Did you enjoy my special sauce, pretty boy?” asked Joe. “Yes, Sir.” Jeremy replied politely. Joe’s hands passed over the boy’s butt, admiring the canvas he was about to work with. Pulling out a stool to sit on, and a trolley holding squeezy bottles of sauces of various colours and consistencies, Joe began to adorn the boy’s rear with intricate patterns composed of the sugary syrups. Larger patches of sauce were accentuated with sugar sprinkles of many hues, whipped cream was dispensed with artistic precision as the man created his masterpiece. Eventually, with delicate dusting of icing sugar, it was complete, with only one exception. A cherry, to be placed on Jeremy’s previously untouched butt-hole, the stalk slipping a short way in to anchor it in place.

Joe stood back to admire his work of art, and taking a picture — making sure to include the boy’s smiling face — spoke to the boy, “You look good enough to eat.” And he did, lapping at the boy’s rump, the tastes of flesh, sugar and sweat mingling on his tongue, Joe slowly slurped the sweetness off of the boy. Again, the final thing remaining was the cherry. Joe plucked it from the boy’s hole, and twisting off the stem, popped it back into the boy’s cavity to a precise depth, where it came to rest pressing against his immature prostate.

“I’m done.” Pete jumped, he had been day-dreaming and not heard his nephew return. The boy’s bowl was empty, and he was just licking the remaining drops of the special source from his lips. “OK then.” Pete told the boy, “We better get going, eh?” “Er, yeah.” the boy responded, fidgeting in his seat. “What’s wrong, got ants in your pants?” asked Pete chuckling. Jeremy pushed his hand into his pants again, the back his time, and after running his hand over his butt a couple of times, his fingers drifted to his hole. Using the middle finger, he circled it around a couple of times, before pushing it in just a little, “Nope,” he said as he withdrew his hand, “no ant’s in there.”

Saying their goodbyes to the ice-cream man, Pete and Jeremy headed to the car to continue their journey home. Jeremy continued wiggling his bottom his seat as they travelled, causing that pleasant tingling that had previously just affected his penis, but now was also present somewhere deep inside him, to continue making him feel oh so good.


	4. Chapter 4

Pete was about to enjoy the company of his young nephew for a whole week, due to his sister and brother-in-law deciding that they wanted an extended trip to the countryside. No kids, no phones, just peace and quiet — the exact opposite of what Pete was getting. The day began earlier — and nosier — than he would have liked, but his sister wanted to capitalize on the short amount of time they had. “Uncle Pete, this week is going to be so fun!” Jeremy announced as he danced around the man. After giving Pete the contact details for the hotel they would be staying at — for emergencies only — the two adults disappeared into the dawn light.

Jeremy looked forward to staying with his uncle, not just because he liked the man and enjoyed his company, but also because of his apartment’s proximity to the city centre. Jeremy loved walking around all the shops and seeing all the different people, but annoyingly had to do it in the company of his mother or father most of the time. They lived sufficiently far away to require a fairly long bus journey to get there, which they thought was too dangerous for a lone seven-year-old boy. Whenever they told Jeremy this he had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes — they were perfectly happy for him to walk (alone!) into the city centre. From Pete’s place, but not to travel there on a bus filled with a bunch of (probably very nice) strangers.

And so it was that Jeremy walked, quite alone, to one of the less trafficked streets of the city in search of a particular store. He had received a notification informing him that one of the speciality clothing outlets in the city was having a sale, and he had been selected — out of hundreds of people! — to have a private consultation with one of the designers. Jeremy wasn't usually bothered with how he was dressed, in fact he would be happy to wear the same clothes he was wearing now forever, but the opportunity to get something exclusive for next to nothing was too tempting to resist. He had told Pete that he was going out, where he was going and that would get his own lunch in the city.

Jeremy arrived, a little out of breath, at the store. Taking a step back towards the curb, he looked over the displays in the windows. Despite everything being a bit too pink and purple for his liking, he thought the clothes looked nice. A small bell tinkled as the door was pushed open and once Jeremy had made it inside, closed with a definitive thump. Turning to face the door, Jeremy flipped the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ and locked the door. “Ah! You must be Jeremy!” and excited voice called from the depths of the shop, followed by its owner — a short and slightly rotund man who looked a little older that Jeremy’s father.

“Come in, come in, my beautiful boy!” the man cried, throwing open his arms to welcome the boy. Jeremy could not remember ever being called ‘beautiful’ before, ‘handsome’ — yes, ‘cute’ — definitely, but never ‘beautiful’. Blushing slightly, Jeremy approached the man, “Hello, sir.” The man chuckled, “You are my special guest today, call me ‘Horace’, pretty one.” First ‘beautiful’, now ‘pretty’, Jeremy feared that his face would look like a beetroot soon from blushing so hard at all the compliments he was receiving. “Now. Let’s see if old Horace can make you look like a royalty.”

Jeremy lost count of how many outfits he tried on, Horace, danced with delight as he moved from rack to shelf to cupboard, retrieved varying combinations of clothes, but the man never seemed truly pleased with what the boy was wearing. The only constant through all the changes was Jeremy’s underwear, classic ‘tighty-whities’, and after each change of clothes the boy was stripped down to them — as he had been mere minutes after entering the store — as he awaited Horace’s latest selection. No new clothes were forthcoming as Horace stood in front of Jeremy, eyeing the boy’s almost naked body critically. “Aha!” he exclaimed suddenly, “I know what is wrong! Yes, yes.” mumbling to himself as he scoured the store for the perfect outfit.

Jeremy’s pants had been replaced, he wasn’t to sure if he like them though — a light-pink, soft to the touch, and almost see through. He knew that both he and Horace could see his hard dick through the panties, but the man seemed to be ignoring it, and so would he. The socks that ran up his legs and over his knees were OK, kind of like the ones he wore when playing soccer, only lacy-er. Wearing a skirt was definitely weird, he wasn’t used to so much air blowing around his cock and ball while still being dressed. The blouse was nice, not too frilly, and he liked the colour — which ‘brought out his eyes’ as Horace had told him, whatever that means.

The man had done something with his hair, it felt like it had been flipped up and over, then held in place with some sort of clips, but Jeremy could not tell as he had not been allowed to look in the mirror for some time. “Wait until I finish your make-up.” Horace had told him, ignoring his protests that he didn’t want to wear any in the first place. “There. You look beautiful,” — that word again — “just like a pretty princess.” Jeremy was sure he didn’t want to look like a ‘pretty princess’ — if he wanted to be anything it would be a ‘handsome prince’, but he would humour the man if it meant he could get some of those jeans he had tried on earlier, he had actually liked them. “Why don’t you take a look for yourself?”

“Wow!” He looked like a girl — a beautiful girl — and he could not believe it. Raising his hand and touching his nose, he saw the girl in the mirror copy him, proving to himself that it wasn’t some sort of illusion he was seeing. Stepping closer to the mirror and performing a twirl, Jeremy giggled as his skirt took flight and revealed his panty-clad butt. Girls wanting to play dress-up — and worse, girls wanting him to play dress-up with them — had always mystified him. He had never seen the point of it until now. The transformation he had undergone was electrifying, it was like he was a completely different person. Maybe he was, it was easy to see himself as a girl, even be a girl for just a little while. Continuing to examine herself — Jeremy giggle again at the thought — in the mirror, she decided that, yes she was a pretty princess.

Looking around to find Horace and thank the man for her transformation, Jeremy noticed that he had changed his clothes too. Well, not so much ‘changed’, as completely removed. He was sitting on a comfortable looking couch and wearing only a crown. But it was not the crown that drew Jeremy’s attention, it was the short — but very solidly built — cock protruding from the man’s crotch. “Come kneel before your King.” Horace commanded as he waved his princess over.

Jeremy’s eyes were level with her King’s cock, and she looked at it hungrily. Licking her lips — and tasting cherries — she awaited her King’s orders. Precum was starting to flow from the tip of the King’s dick, “Taste my offering, my princess.” Jeremy’s tongue gracefully slid across the underside of the man’s cock and collected the salty-sweet liquid pouring from the tip. “Kiss it.” was the next order that she eagerly compiled with. Resting in a kneeling position again, Jeremy pointed out the ring of lipstick surrounding the tip. “I wonder if you can make another mark further down?” her King asked. The whole head of her King’s cock was in her mouth now, and she started sucking before the man even needed to command her to.

More and more rings of lipstick appeared on the shaft as the princess delved deeper, taking more of the lieges magnificent cock into her mouth. “You will soon receive your King’s blessing.” the man told her between lustful pants. It was the moan of appreciation vibrating around his cock that set the man off, blasting his cum into the beautiful mouth of the young girl that knelt before him. The girl accepted every drop of the blessing, before slowly sliding her mouth from the King’s cock and thanking him.

Jeremy was pleased with his haul, a couple of pairs of the jeans he had liked, and even a few shirts that his mother would appreciate him wearing more that he would himself. “I’m back uncle Pete!” he called into the quiet of the apartment. Pete stepped out of the kitchen and passed an approving glance over the boy’s new attire, his uncle said “Looking good, little man.” Jeremy continued on his way to his bedroom to put away his new clothes. With his new shirts neatly hung-up and jeans folded in a drawer, Jeremy carefully hid the purple bag containing his other outfit and the make-up that he would only wear on special occasions — very special occasions.


	5. Chapter 5

Keith sat alone at a table in the corner of the arcade, listlessly poking at the remnants of food on his plate. How had it come to this, a fourteen-year-old having to be at a party for seven, eight and nine-year-old boys. Oh yes, the ‘incident’, the one that meant he was no longer trusted to be left at home by himself. So here he was, dragged along by his parents to his little brother’s friend’s birthday party. The eight-year-old little twerp currently walking in his direction. Oh no, the boy was actually coming to talk to him and there was nowhere he could escape to. All the games he would have wanted to play on were taken and the path to the toilets, his only other refuge, was blocked by the advancing boy.

“Are you having fun?” the boy — was it James or Jimmy or Jeremy, Keith couldn’t remember — asked as he danced on the spot. Obviously he was a bit slow or maybe on a sugar-high, Keith didn’t care which, as the boy didn’t recognize the look of complete boredom on the teenager’s face. “Yeah, the time of my life.” Keith answered sarcastically. Ignoring the comment, or maybe just not understanding sarcasm, the boy asked him if he wanted a go on the “Best game in the whole arcade!” — which Keith supposed that, if this kid liked it, it was probably the lamest. A sharp tug on his arm brought him out of his reverie, the boy was actually trying to drag him off to the game. “Come on!” the boy cried as he pulled at the teenager again.

“Oh, for f…” he had nearly sworn in front of the boy, a dangerous thing to do with adults present, especially ones who could ground him. “OK, OK.” he tried to placate the boy as he stood and allowed himself to be led away, “If I play this game of yours, will you leave of alone?” With his free hand, the boy draw a cross over his heart, “Of course, promise!”

Keith tried to compose himself. There was lame, and then there was this thing. He should just walk away now, leave the kid with his ‘game’, and hide in a corner somewhere. But no, doing that would probably make the kid sulk, and he didn’t want to get on the bad side of the birthday-boy’s parents, because that would also get him on the bad side of his own parents. A video booth, if he had wanted to watch a low quality video of a stupid train he could have done so from his spot at the table where the boy found him. Connecting to the crappy Wi-Fi and streaming some 10 year old clip from YouTube would have had the same effect.

“Get in, it’s the best thing EVER!” the overly-excited boy told him. Keith considered the possibility — perhaps a little too vividly — of just pushing the kid into the compartment, slamming the rather solidly built door closed then wedging it shut to spare everyone in the arcade from having to be visited again by the boy. But he let that fantasy drift away as he slipped into the darkened interior, having to slide down in the seat to allow himself some headroom. Needing to spread his legs to get comfortable, he had the uneasy feeling that he was presenting his crotch to the screen, and hoped the wasn’t an anti-vandal camera installed and watching his embarrassing predicament.

There was one good thing about this game, Keith thought, when Jeremy — he remembered the boy’s name now — had closed the door for him, all the shouts and screams of the little brats running around the arcade were silenced. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all, a bit of respite — well-deserved after hours of contact with all those kids — was what he needed. How long could he milk this for? At least 10 minutes, maybe 20 at a push. Sneaking back here when he needed a break from all the noise would be easy, they hadn’t passed many people on the way here, and it was close to the toilets, a good excuse as to why he would be in this area.

The large ‘start’ button pulsed in front of him, it’s insistent red glow drawing his attention. He supposed he should press it and start the game, just in case there was an indication on the outside that showed when it was active. He didn’t want the boy to rip open the door to his new sanctuary and whine at him that he wasn’t playing the boy’s favourite game. Keith pressed the button, and everything changed.

White, green, purple, blue, purple, yellow, green, white, blue, green. The colours pulsed, blasted at him from every angle, soon he could not see them with his eyes, but he needed to see them, the most important thing in the world to Keith was to see the colours. But how could he if his eyes no longer worked as they should, how could he see the colours. The answer popped into his head without him really needing to think about it. A silly old name for something so precious to him. ‘One-eyed trouser snake.’ His penis. His rock hard cock that was straining to escape his pants, that had an ‘eye’, that could ‘see’.

Struggling with the zip on his jeans, Keith finally freed his snake so that it could watch the pretty lights. Sighing in contentment as it took in the beautiful sights, Keith knew that he should reward his pet. Grasping it firmly, he began to stroke. His cock was a diligent pupil, stood there as it was imparted with great knowledge, and receiving considerable pleasure as the hand slide up-and-down its velvety length. A reward was also due to the one who brought the snake to the light, and Keith’s balls were boiling in anticipation. He had not yet got to cum today, this party he was at having interrupted his well practised routine.

The snake had learnt all that it could learn, and it was time for it’s master to complete his task. “Oh shit! Yes!” yelled Keith into the sound-proof booth as he came. Not a single drop of his cum touched the floor walls or ceiling, all of it was deftly caught in the teenager’s previously unused right hand. The thick, warm and sticky puddle felt odd there, but Keith knew it would soon be gone. Bringing his hand to his mouth to begin cleaning off the goo, he extended his tongue and took in his first ever mouthful of cum. Pepperoni pizza, that’s what it reminded him of. Not the flavour of the stuff, kind of bitter and tangy, but it was the experience of the first bite into a piping hot slice, that was the sensation that he felt. He knew he would always feel that way about eating cum, his or — strangely — anyone else’s, no matter what it actually tasted like.

“Wasn’t it super awesome!?” Jeremy asked as Keith emerged from the booth, “No.” the teenager started to say as he looked into the now crestfallen boy’s face, “But it wasn’t super lame, either.” he finally conceded.


	6. Chapter 6

Keith shuffled from foot-to-foot awkwardly as he stood in the middle of the room, a few paces away from the video booth that Jeremy had led him to half-an-hour earlier. He had been abandoned by the boy when Jeremy had seen a couple of his friends and ran over to them.

“Wait for me here, OK?” the boy had called as he left Keith’s side.

The teenager was still feeling a little peculiar after visiting Jeremy’s favourite attraction, and he was surprised when he had obeyed the boy’s instructions, not moving from that spot for the last 10 minutes.

Keith had not been idle during that time though, he had been playing a simple, but very addictive game he had downloaded — eventually! The arcade’s Wi-Fi was truly terrible — at the recommendation of someone at this party. The app itself was very unusual, it had been free and so far had not pestered him to buy coins or gems, or indeed interrupted his gameplay at all, it just flashed up the occasional notification which he didn’t need to pay much attention to.

“You waited!” Jeremy’s excited voice brought Keith back to reality.

“Yeah.” he replied, stating the obvious as he slipped his phone back into his pocket so he could give the boy his full attention once more.

“I need to pee.” Jeremy was dancing on the spot as he told the teenager.

To his surprise, Keith also realized that he needed to pee too, but there was something oddly familiar about the sensation he was feeling in his bladder. It almost felt the same as when he had just cum — for some reason he always needed to pee soon afterwards — but he had not had the opportunity to jack off today because of this party, so that could not be the reason.

Before he could analyse this conundrum any further, he felt a tug on his arm as an impatient Jeremy started to drag him in the direction of the toilets.

They entered in silence, and Keith looked around the blue tiled open area. There were a couple of cubicles on the far wall, to the left was a long counter with several sinks and hot-air dyers above them, and the right wall was dominated by a number of white porcelain urinals, each with the customary blue cake residing in it.

“I’ll go first.” Jeremy informed Keith as he walked up to the urinals. The teenager idly wondered why they had to go one at a time, given that there with enough spaces to go for both of them, but gave up as he heard the boy talking to himself, probably telling off an uncooperative zipper.

Keith took out his phone again and checked his notifications, disappointingly the were none, so he decided instead to play a couple of rounds of the new game.

“I’m done.” called Jeremy, as he walked towards Keith, still pulling up his zipper, “It’s your turn now.”

Keith stepped into the spot that Jeremy had just occupied as he heard a rush of water in the sink behind him.

“Hello,” a sweetly lilting voice said, “I’ll be your urinal today.”

Keith looked down at the boy — maybe a guest from the party, he looked about 7-years-old — who had tilted his head back, opened his mouth wide and stared hungrily up at the teenager with piercing green eyes. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was wrong with this situation. Maybe it was the boy’s damp black hair, previous visitors to the toilet had obviously missed their mark — either by accident or on purpose. Or it could have been that the boy’s wrists and ankles were cuffed, as if he didn’t want to be there, but his stubby erection seemed to indicate otherwise.

A sudden desperation to piss overruled any more thought into the matter, the boy looked ready to accept his pee into his mouth, and Keith needed somewhere to pee into, so he came to the logical conclusion.

Extracting his cock with difficulty, it was semi-hard and Keith didn’t know why. Never before had he considered that he might get an erection from seeing a boy asking for someone to pee on them.

Holding his dick and aiming at the boy’s mouth, Keith willed his bladder to cooperate, but without any success. “Maybe if I hum a bit, will that relax you?” the boy beneath him started to offer, but was cut off at the teenagers flow started. The boy managed to close his eyes before the fluid hit his face, but was unable to stop the torrent from hitting his nose and running down his cheeks. The golden stream had made it past the boy’s nipples as it contained to pour down his chest, and before he could open his mouth to intercept Keith’s amber flow.

Groaning in appreciation of the unexpected show playing out before him, Keith made an effort to keep filling the boy’s mouth. Before long the boy’s small mouth was full to overflowing, which made it necessary him to close his mouth again — causing more piss to join the river running over his face, down his chest and pooling around his cock — and then gulping loudly, he swallowed the contents.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Keith to keep up the flow of urine into the boy’s re-opened mouth. His bladder was nearly empty, and his rapidly hardening erection was throwing off his aim.

The last few drops of piss clung to the teenagers cock-head as the boy swallowed a second mouthful of pee. Pushing himself up so that his mouth was level with the tip of Keith’s dick, the boy cleaned the head with a flick of his tongue.

“Thank you, Sir.” the boy said as he dropped down into his previous position, his tongue circled his lips looking for any reaming yellow droplets.

The absurdity of the situation seem to come crashing down on the teenager, here he was with his rock-hard dick out having just fed his piss to some anonymous boy! He searched for something to say to break the tension he was feeling — and he was the only one feeling any tension, the boy was sat placidly, looking up at him with a look of contentment on his face.

A deeply ingrained instinct that governs how you interact with someone you have just met reared up within Keith. “What’s your name?” he asked the boy politely, cursing inwardly at the foolishness of making a formal introduction to someone who just drank you piss.

“I don’t have a name, Sir.” the boy replied, sill smiling, “But some people call me ‘piss-boy’, you can too if you like.” he fished grinning wider still.

Keith supposed that he must have put his dick away and washed his hands at some point, but he didn’t remember doing so. He was sat back at his original table, Jeremy having just left after giving him a fond “farewell”. Had he been so bored that he had fallen asleep and had a perverted dream about one of the little kids that were running around the arcade?

He could go back to the toilet and find out for sure, but he wasn’t certain that he wanted to know the truth.


	7. Chapter 7

Leon’s heart was beating so fast! He had just finished talking with Jeremy, who had congratulated him on finally getting his own cell phone and professed a love of the same game Leon had become addicted to over the last few months. He wasn’t quite sure how he had got an invitation to the party, he wasn’t one of the popular kids — in fact he was a bit of a nerd, spending more time in the library than the playground.

But here he was, socializing and playing games he had never even heard of at the arcade with his new — did he dare call them this — friends. So many new names and faces, Leon could barely keep track of them all as he moved from cabinet to cabinet, playing alone or with others.

The constant flashing lights and blaring sounds were beginning to take a toll on the sensitive boy, so he was happy to be distracted by a vibration emanating from his pocket. A thrill of excitement coursed up his spine as he recognized the slow throb of a notification from his new favourite app. Quickly he read it and replaced the phone in his pocket.

Following the directions provided to him by the signs plastered to the plain black walls of the arcade, Leon eventually arrived at the toilets. The dark and oppressive atmosphere of the arcade proper was banished by the warm light of the bathroom, and looking around the open space Leon sighed as he admired the tiles coloured in a relaxing shade of blue.

Opening a concealed compartment beneath one of the sinks, Leon extracted a pile of clothes and set the on the counter-top. Then, starting with his shoes and working upwards, he removed his own clothes and placed them in the empty alcove, closing it with a smart click.

Ignoring the chill of the tiled floor on the soles of his feet, Leon walked over to the only other person in the room, a blond-haired boy who looked to be 3 or 4 years older than him. “You are my replacement?” the boy asked huskily.

“Yes, I am your replacement.” Leon replied almost mechanically, before he reached behind the boy and started to disconnect the chains that connected his restraints to a central ring. Once free, the boy stood and began to unstrap the cuffs around his wrists and ankles.

Leon watched dispassionately, as the older boy completed his task and set about attaching the cuffs to Leon’s hands and feet. When his left wrist had been bound, Leon brought it closer to his face and examined it curiously, it seemed to be made of a strong but malleable plastic which — when his right hand was available — he tugged at to see if it could be forcibly removed. It could not.

The buckle holding it in place looked like one found on a normal belt, but the operation of its removal seemed so infinitely complex to Leon’s befuddled mind that he decided to give it no more thought. At a gesture from the other boy Leon knelt in the same position that he had found the boy in and his cuffs were clipped to the ring.

Leon tried to move, but found it impossible to shift in any direction along the floor. Pushing himself up so that his butt left its resting position on his ankles, and his knees were at a right angle, Leon practice moving between the two positions until he could do it in one fluid motion.

The sound of running water brought his attention back to the other boy, he had dressed and was currently trying to style his damp hair into some other fashion than the limp mess it was currently in. Giving up with a loud sigh, he made his way to the door, pausing as his hand rested on the handle.

The other boy turned back to Leon and with a look of sympathy on his face told him, “It’s going to be OK, just try to stay calm.” He hesitated again before swallowing hard and speaking in barely more than a whisper, “Piss-boy.” Then he was gone.

Leon’s first instinct was to stand up and get out of there, but he could not. His second instinct was to pull fruitlessly at the chains binding his arms and legs together. The third and fourth instincts were to try to unclip and unbuckle the cuffs respectively. His fifth instinct was to scream for help, but it just came out as a strangled moan. Leon’s sixth and final instinct was to cry, but a small voice in his ear told him ‘The only thing running down you face is going to be other people’s pee.’

Head bowed in shame at being nude and trapped in the bathroom, Leon wondered how he had got into this mess. He might have been at a party before this, but he didn’t really go to parties did he, no-one ever invited him. Had he seen someone before had suddenly awoken, another boy like himself? And why was he here in particular, what was he meant to be doing, why did he have a feeling of giddy anticipation in the pit of his stomach?

The door opened and Leon saw a boy, maybe a little older than himself enter the bathroom, and the unpleasant feelings of fear and doubt left him. The boy only looked surprised for a moment before he approached Leon. “Hello, I’ll be your urinal today.” he said sweetly. “Okay.” the boy said unfazed by Leon’s predicament.

A sudden thirst overtook Leon, and he knew instinctively that only one thing could sate it. Opening his mouth as wide as possible to give the new boy the best chance of hitting his mark Leon waited, his nostrils flaring as he took deep steadying breathes.

The pale stream hit the back of Leon’s throat, but somehow he did not gag. A groan turned into a gargle as the scent of the new boy’s urine found it way into Leon’s nose. He was nearly deafened by what sounded like an entire waterfall of piss filling his mouth, never had he experienced such a noise emanating from within his own body.

The torrent of urine entering his mouth was not slowing, but the cavity was rapidly approaching its capacity, if he didn’t swallow soon surely he would drown in piss.

His mouth closed and he gulped several times, the acrid fluid pouring down his throat into his stomach, warming his insides. Leon clamped his eyes shut as the new boy refused to — or was unable to — stop pissing on him. The pee ran over his face and down his neck and it felt refreshing, like he was in the shower at home secretly playing with himself.

His stubby cock hardened to its immature 5 cm length as the warm liquid flowed over it, and his butt-hole twitched as a droplet trickled over it and was sucked into Leon, slowly filling him from both ends.

Thirst still not satiated, he opened his mouth once more to receive that last remnant’s of the new boy’s pee. Swallowing once more and cleaning the residual liquid from his lips, Leon lent forward to clean the new boy’s cock of any remaining piss.

“Thank you, Sir.” Leon said genuinely pleased that the new boy had allowed Leon to serve as his urinal. The new boy thanked Leon in return, washed his hands and left the bathroom.

Leon retched but nothing left his mouth. “Oh no!” he whisper-yelled, “I drank piss!” He retched again, but this only made it worse as he felt the warm liquid sloshing about in his stomach.

Many more men and boys visited the bathroom while Leon was on duty. It did not take him long to conclude that the men were the best and the worst at the same time. The greater quantity and the delightfully & disgustingly strong flavour of their piss — it depended on which Leon you asked — brought first joy, and then sorrow to the boy.

Two boys entered the bathroom together this time, and only after giving his well practised introduction did Leon recognize the one who stood before him. “Because it is your birthday, you get special treatment, Sir.” he told Jeremy. The birthday boy had already lowered his pants to his ankles by the time Leon had risen into a kneeling position. Leaning forwards, he took Jeremy’s cock fully into his mouth. The stream of piss started to fill his mouth and Leon playfully darted the tip of his tongue in-and-out of the cascade.

Jeremy moaned as he relieved himself and groaned as Leon’s tongue edged forward to play with his cock-head. Leon never let his mouth become too full of urine, gulping it down continually as he teased the tip of Jeremy’s cock. Eventually the flow stopped and Jeremy gasped as he drew closer to the edge of his climax, but Leon withdrew from his cock. “I am sorry Sir, I only drink piss, nothing more.” Disappointed, Jeremy pulled up his underwear, trapping his still hard dick against his stomach.

It was only after two more boys visited the bathroom and had used him that Leon was released by the next boy who would serve needs of the party goers. Leon repeated the ritual of securing his unfortunate replacement, the feeling of relief at his ordeal being over far outweighed the feelings of pity he had for the younger boy before him. Not even bothering to try to fix his hair, as he remembered the unsuccessful attempts of his predecessor, Leon headed to the exit.

Gripping the door-handle, Leon felt a compulsion to speak to the younger boy one last time. It wasn’t the same sensation of undeniable need he felt when he had been forced to drink all that pee, but one of camaraderie. He knew what the younger boy was about to go through, so he offered the same advice he had received.

“It’s going to be OK, just try to stay calm.”, however he did not feel it necessary to add insult to injury by calling the youngster, ‘Piss-boy’.


	8. Chapter 8

The orange light of the street lamp fell harshly on the young dark skinned boy stood under it. Sickly green tufts of grass that had sprouted up through the cracks in the pavement fell to-and-fro as they were kicked by his white trainer covered feet. Pulling a phone from his pocket and angling the screen to avoid the Sodium glare he checked his notifications, anxiously waiting for the man’s arrival.

A dark car pulled up, it’s windows opaque, and idled next to the boy. Unhurriedly, the boy finished with his phone and lazily slipped it back into his pocket. Grasping the handle he opened the door and gracefully slid inside, closing the door behind him with a soft *thump*.

Neither man nor boy spoke or moved until, breaking the silence, the pasty, shaven-headed and tattooed man grunted “Seatbelt.” and the boy, grudgingly cooperated with his elders order. The car’s engine roared into life as it pulled away from the curb, moving man and boy with purpose to their destination.

The flickering lights and flaking paint were painfully cliché given the natural of their liaison, a cheap motel room on the edge of town. Anonymity guaranteed.

Clothes fell to the floor with no regard to niceties as the door closed behind them and the cool florescent light welcomed them into the room. “On the bed, all fours.” demanded the one in a husky voice to the other, who complied wordlessly and immediately.

Walking around the bed with heavy foot falls, the one examined the other from all sides. Seemingly pleased, or at least not displeased with what he saw, he ended his journey stood at the other’s rear.

A look of disgust on his face, the one slowly ran his fingers over colouration of the other’s lower back and buttocks. “This filth better not stick to me.” he warned the other with a sneer.

A playful, but purposeful, slap impacted the cheek eliciting a squeak from the recipient. “Quiet!” hisses the one to the other, his voice low and forceful. Another slap, to test if his orders would be obeyed, followed quickly. “Good.” the one said, “You’re learning.”

The one moved closer to the other his steely erection, present since arriving here, leading the way. “Your kind don’t deserve this.” the one said, stroking his cock, spreading precum over the tip. “And you certainly don’t deserve more than this to ease its way.” the one added, spitting onto the dark twitching ring.

Pushing forward with a steady pressure, the head of the one’s cock penetrated the other. The stretching and unkind entry to the hole caused the other to hiss in pain. Another slap brought more pain and an unrestrained cry. The other received another, managing to remain silent this time.

After a little effort on the one’s part he fully entered the other. “Can you feel it?” he asked carelessly, uninterested if the other could or not. “Yes Sir.” came the other’s reply.

“Sir?” the one spat out the word as he started pumping his hips, “Since when do the likes of you call myself or my brothers, ’Sir’?” The other only mumbled an unintelligible response. “Tell me what you call us when you think no-one can hear you. Tell me what you call us when you spit in our faces.”

“N-nigger, Sir.” the other said. The one’s dark hand flew down from on high, impacting the light skin of the buttocks with all the force it could muster. The other screamed and cried and begged. “Don’t you ever use that word again!” the one roared as the second and third blows rained down on the undefended ass.

Hand and buttock stinging, man and boy gasped as the small cock entered the small hole with a quicker pace. “What else do you call people like me?” the one asked mockingly, his voice lighter now, like a teacher asking a favoured pupil to describe their hopes and dreams. “F-faggot, Sir.” came the stammered reply, the other knowing what his answer would earn him.

The burning pain in the one’s hand only served to fuel the fires in his loins. Faster and faster, harder and harder, his hips pumped, slamming his dick into the unworthy hole.

Paroxysms of pleasure passed through the one’s body as his climax came upon him, body collapsing onto the pale tattooed skin below him, still connected by a hard stalk of flesh. It was not long enough to stimulate the other’s throbbing gland, the friction of the two bodies merely inflamed the other’s passions, leaving him mostly unsatisfied. The vivid red hand-prints on his rump provided much more stimulus.

They dressed — the one spent and satisfied, the other frustrated and rampant. The reverse journey was spent in silence once again. At the predestined point the one left the other, not once sparing a parting glance as he was consumed by shadow.

The island of light in the darkness, a simple bus stop like so many others, but this one familiar. It drew memories from the back of Markus’ mind, things half-forgotten or never full remembered in the first place came to the surface.

It had been a couple of months ago, he had been visiting a friend and missed his bus. His mother had not been please, at this time of night and in this neighbourhood, buses (and safety for a young black boy) were in short supply.

“If a pervy white guy so much as looks at me I’ll just scream ‘rape!’” Markus told the person on the other end of the phone call. He jumped out of the cold plastic seat of the shelter as he wrenched the phone from his ear. A few seconds later, when he was confident his mother had stopped yelling at him, he cautiously brought it back within hearing distance.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it. Yes, I’ll keep my head down. No, I won’t cause trouble.” he sighed, regurgitating the stock phrases he knew would calm his mother’s anger at his sassy and flippant attitude.

“It’s not like anyone’s going to lynch me.” once more he had to retreat from the deafening remonstrations of his mother, then offered his sincere apologies, “Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I know it’s not funny. No, I won’t cause trouble.” He ended the call.

“Yeah,” Markus muttered, laughing mirthlessly, “I won’t cause trouble for the white folks.” A dick! Big and black, shaped like his own but scaled up massively. It took him a second to realize what he had seen, and another to realize that he could not of possibly seen what he thought he saw.

There was no conceivable reason why the large electronic advert at the end of the shelter would ever show… A dick! There it was again, catching his eye for just a second, maybe even less than a second, it was hard to tell.

Was he imagining it or maybe going slightly mad? No, it must be a trick of the… A dick! Smaller this time, and was it rotated? Markus watched intently now, waiting for it to appear again. Because it would appear again wouldn’t… A dick! Yes! There it was.

Many flashes of the phantom dick later and the scene had changes, Markus didn’t know when, which was weird considering how closely he had been watching. The dick was attached to a body, his body! He wasn’t sure how he knew it was his body, but it was.

Soon he was joined on the screen by a man. Not just any man, a white man, bowed and subservient. ‘The way he should be.’ came the unbidden thought, but Markus knew that it was true, he had always known. His mother tried to tell him to be a good boy, to ignore the injustices the white folks perpetrated on him and his brothers & sisters, but no longer.

He could teach them their proper place, and then he knew with a greater clarity and certainty than anything else in his young life, how he could to do it.

He pulled out his phone, he installed the App.


End file.
